


The Ones Who Got Lost Along the Way

by hatwall



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Avian Hybrid Philza, Blood and Injury, DadSchlatt, Dadza, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Insane Wilbur Soot, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Parent Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Toby Smith | Tubbo, Psychological Torture, Ram Hybrid Tubbo, Ram hybrid Schlatt, Schlatt is not a bad guy, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Tommy too, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), he just does not make good decisions, technoblade needs a hug, voices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatwall/pseuds/hatwall
Summary: “Ummm, interesting.”His hand still hovered near his sword. He did not like that tone of voice. He did not like this situation. This was all...too odd. It left a sinking feeling in his stomach. And he had learned a long time ago to listen to his instincts.“Well, if that is your decision,” Dream said, backing up a bit before turning his back on the piglin.“Yeah, get out of here, ya nerd,” Techno said, turning back to his mining, acutely aware of how he had turned his back on an enemy. “But Dream…”He turned back around, just to find the demi-god looking over his shoulder.“Don’t fuck with my brothers.”This is strictly the character of the SMP and not the actual content creators. If this crosses any of their boundaries it will immediately get taken down. Respect people's boundaries.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 69
Kudos: 252





	1. Choose. There Are Only Wrong Answers

**Author's Note:**

> So I like the pigman a little bit. But this time with a lot more SBI, because I love found family.  
> Just so ya'll's know, Technoblade is a pigling hybrid (mostly human with tusks and such), unlike in "The Fighting Pit" series where he full piglin. Wilbur is also a piglin hybrid but is less obvious. He still has the enhanced strength had endurance though.

Technoblade dusted the dirt off of his hands, looking down at the ground where he had planted his last potato. Done. At least for now. The little field that he had cultivated in Pogtopia was a bit of a comfort thing, especially since his large farm was in another server at the moment. While that farm had been created because of a war, producing more potatoes than he could ever dream of eating, this one was created because of necessity, as well as the comfort that he got from burying his hands in the dirt... This time it was not himself in the war, but his brothers. They fought to get their country back. And being their brother, Techno had obviously come when they asked, leaving their father to make the trek to this server.

It had been a mess when he had gotten there, the spawn entrance being in enemy territory, having to quickly get out before he was discovered. Following his youngest brother to the dugout hideout that they had made.

They were both filthy. Torn clothes, dirty faces, with cuts and bruises all over them. They looked haggard, tired, and angry.

When he went into the ravine, the piglin hybrid had expected to be hugged by both of the boys, held tight in their arms while they gushed about everything that had been going wrong the past few months. Wilbur would do his hair while he rambled, with Tommy occasionally chipping in with his input. And Techno would roll his eyes, but let them do it anyway, making sure that they knew he was mildly annoyed, everything that they would ignore and do what they wanted.

But they did not.

Tommy hugged him. A desperate, clingy hug. Like he was scrapping for a bit of normality, and sanity in this world.

Wilbur, his twin, just stared at him, with cold eyes. Leaning against the dirt wall, a far off look in his eyes and an unsettling grin on his face.

“Good, you’re here,” he said, “let’s get to work.”

And that was it. They were off to work. It was not that Techno minded work, he liked it when his hands were busy. But it was not what he had been expecting. Deep down, it was not the reunion that he wanted with his brothers.

But there was no time for that. He was immediately put to work, alongside his little brother. Making armor, a consistent food source that would feed them for the next couple of months. Mining for resources, and chopping down trees, while Wilbur locked himself away, trying to come up with some semblance of a plan for how they were going to take down the tyrant known as Schlatt that currently ruled their old country, now renamed Manburg.

Techno did not know a lot about the ram hybrid. He knew that he was a businessman, and that came with a certain stereotype. The love of money. Cold and cruel. And from how his brothers described the man, that appeared to be true.

To be honest, Techno did not really care about this war. It meant nothing to him. He had been in his fair share of wars, feeling the adrenaline in the air, and feeling the blood slip through his fingers. Earning his man as the Blood God. He had done that already. He was here for his brothers. Nothing else about this mattered to him. He had already sought out violence for long enough, his latest war being about potatoes for god's sake. He did not need the rush of battle to fuel him anymore. He was content with finding a place to settle down and be away from the hustle and bustle of other people. Maybe go back to his childhood home, keep their father busy.

Some would say that he was wasting his talents. That it was too early for him to retire. That he had spent so much time cultivating these skills, the least he could do was use them.  
But he had seen his days of battle. And that was enough for the piglin hybrid. After this war, he was more than ready to settle down, and retire.

But first, his brothers needed his help.

And so he helped. He teased and bullied them while he gave them needles to mend their clothes. Pressed a little too hard on wounds as he cleaned them, snickering when they squirmed and cursed at him.

His monotone voice and laugh echoing through the caves. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one talking.

Tommy was just as loud as ever, but it took him a while to ‘warm-up’ and act normally. A few jokes and jabs from his older brother before he started cursing, and hurling insults like he normally did.

The blond was different, that much was obvious. Not just because of the lean strong muscles that adorned his teenage body. Not just because of the new scars that covered him. 

Not just because of the much-improved skills that he now had.

It was the way he flinched at the twang of a string. It was the way that he kept his back to a hard surface at all times, so no one could sneak upon him. It was the way that his hands hovered near his weapon at all times. It was the way that he kept his eyes on an exit at all times.

The price of war.

Techno had seen it before. It was easy to spot. Both he and their father suffered from it. It was where his overprepared paranoia came from. He had watched too many men die because they were not prepared. Because he was not prepared.

So he tried to help in the ways that he knew. He gave Tommy a chest harness and a cloak. Not as long as his own, but still weighted, to have someone on his shoulders, and feel like his back was protected. He would remind the blond of where he was at all times, especially when he had to leave the room, or when he was walking around the teen. He slept in the same room as the boy, making sure that he was close to the door, and always made sure that Tommy was asleep before he dozed off.

It was not much, but he sure hoped it helped.

It was all silent support. Silent, and unwarranted. Hidden admits jokes and jabs. No need to make his brothers think that he had gone soft.

Compared to Wilbur, he was soft.

His twin was ridged. Anxious. Rubbing his half gloved hands together at all times. Looking this way and that, like he was waiting for something to go wrong. His temper was short, and explosive, often yelling at his two brothers for small things.

It rolled off Techno’s shoulders. Easily. He rolled his eyes at his twin, before walking out in the middle of his shouting, showing how uninterested he was. That always got him to shut up.

Tommy on the other hand. He shrank in himself. Getting small, rubbing his arms, and casting his eyes to the ground.

Techno watched from around corners, occasionally stepping in, and dragging his younger brother with a silent cold shoulder to his twin. Always making sure to be there for the   
blond when the yelling was over.

It was odd to see his twin so angry. Angry all of the time. Angry and irritated. That had kind of been his thing growing up. Wilbur being the mediator between his two hot-headed brothers, who never seem to get along.

War was ugly. War took things that could never be replaced. People. Habits. Being able to have food without scarfing it down because they might not get it again. Peace of mind. 

Being able to walk around corners without anxiety about what might be on the other side.

Sanity.

It was the stresses of war, Techno told himself.

It was the pressure of having to make a plan that would have to keep them alive, he whispered in his mind.  
Mantras that kept him from lashing out at his twin. That kept him from decking Wilbur in the face and yelling at him to chill the fuck out. Because as much war had changed Techno, he was still that hot-headed pigling hybrid that he had been so many years ago.  
But, right now, his brothers did not need a hothead. They did not need someone to yell at them to get their shit together.  
They needed a supportive brother who was going to help them. They needed someone who was going to make sure that they ate. They needed a mediator.  
They needed some semblance of normality.

And Techno knew that.

And, for now, he would be that. Until they could go back to being brothers who grew up together, and not brothers of war.

So that's how he found himself mining for netherite so late at night. Time did not really mean much anymore. All of their sleep schedules were beyond screwed, which often led to them doing tasks at two or three am, until six the same morning. Tommy and he had gotten into the habit of sleeping from noon until five in the evening. Not enough sleep, but it was all that they seemed able to get. It was five in the morning, so he had time.

It was methodical, mindless work. Placing the beds, letting them explode in front of him, dodging flames as the floor collapsed under him. Expertly placing blocks under him, while searching around for the ancient debris.

It seemed so simple to him. Normal movements that he was used to, that freed up his mind to think about other things.

The green demi-god that watched him raised an eyebrow.

But suppose he should have expected nothing less from the man who had beaten him in a duel.

Techno picked up the freshly mined ancient debris, placing it in his inventory, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. His long braid pink hair was making the back of his neck burn with heat, to the point where he had to put it up into a bun, wrapping the hair around itself, until it was tight against his head.

Being a piglin hybrid he had the ears of a pig, the tusks of one too. Along with the natural long pink hair that he had. Enhanced strength, and endurance. Hybrids were odd mutations of creatures, often shunned and discriminated against. This server had been one of the first that had so many hybrids on it, much to Techno’s surprise.

Wilbur was, technically, a piglin hybrid as well, only receiving the dominant trait, instead of the recessive one like Techno. Twins, but very confusing for strangers, since Wilbur only had slightly pointier ears. It was always amusing to see the confused faces of people when they told them that they were twins. Even more so when they saw their father, with his blonde hair, and large black wings.

They had a very odd family.  
A family of people stitched together, under a pair of loving wings, that they knew that could run into the arms of at any time.

Techno had considered calling their father, telling the avian hybrid about the situation that they were in, but it had not gotten that bad yet. Depending on what the admin of the server was watching him for, that might change very soon.

The pink-haired man stood up straight, stretching a bit, before going still.

“Ya know Dream, if you wanted a rematch, you could have just asked,” he said, playing with the sheath of his sword at his side, “we are on the same side after all.”

“You know I was surprised to see your brothers on the list of people to enter the server,” Dream said, hopping down from his hiding spot, letting the flames hiss around him. As expected, no effect. Damn it must be nice to be an admin. “The Blood Gods' brothers wanting to be a part of my server? The same guy that was beaten by their brother. I thought that they were crazy.”

“So is that why you started a war with them?” Techno had heard the stories. And that lit a familiar fire in him that almost made him want to take on this green bastard again, right here right now. If only he was not a great ally of Pogtopia.

“No, I’m not one to hold a petty grudge. And let alone take that grudge out on family members. I’m surprised that you would think that low of me.”

“I don’t assume the best of anyone.”

“Smart.”

“Is there a reason you were watching me? Or just wanted to be a creep?”

“Let’s just say that I’m impressed. You live up to your name.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

A silence fell over the two.

A demigod almost god, and a man almost demigod staring at each other. Both knowing that the other had the power to start something. The question was who was going to finish it. Who would be able to finish it.

Techno’s hand hovered by his sword. He did not want to get caught off guard.

“How do you feel about Schlatt?”

That came out of left field.

“Ummmm, fine? It’s not like I know a lot about the guy. He’s our enemy, and that’s all I know.”

“Tommy has not told you anything?”

“What would Tommy tell me?”

“About Tubbo.”

Ah yes, Tubbo. A very common topic that his brother would bring up. A best friend on the opposite side of the rebellion. Separated by the so-called tyrant of Manburg.

And the son of said tyrant.

“Schlatt’s son?”

“So you do know.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like it’s secret knowledge that we have to dig for. Just talk to Tommy for like ten minutes, and Tubbo will probably come up.”

“So you’re on my side?”

“I’m on my brother’s side.”

“Pogtopia?”

“If that’s where they are.”

“And if they don’t agree anymore? Which side will you take?”

What?

“What?”

“Technoblade, I don’t think you were completely filled in on what has been going on here.

“You see, Tommy and Wilbur. They don’t really….agree on what should be done with Manburg. Tommy, well he wants to take the nation back. Takedown a democratically elected official, and Wilbur back into power. Because that’s what Wilbur wanted. A long time ago.

“But, you see, Wilbur has had a change of heart. He does not want to take the nation back. Not the way that you think. You see, he wants to finish his symphony. To complete what he started.

“To simply, he wants to blow the whole thing up.

“You see where the goals don’t line up. So what side are you going to take?”

Techno forced himself to not take a step back.

It made sense. Everything made so much more sense. The fights that his brothers would have. The yelling. The snapping at each other. They were fighting two different wars and yet we're still supposed to be on the same side. This was his first time hearing of this. And it was hitting that he was caught in the middle of two goals, both cared equally passionate about.

And he was expected to choose.

“I….”

“Because I’m on Wilbur’s side,” Dream stated, blunt, and to the point. And unnerving.

Techno could not see the man's face, but the smiling mask was enough to send shivers down his spine.

“You want to destroy Manburg?”

“That city has caused nothing but hurt, no matter who is in charge. It needs to be destroyed. I couldn't care less about Wilbur’s motives, but if he is going to help me get what I want, that I will side with him. I will bring that nation to its knees.

“Will you join us, Blood God?”

Techno felt his world spin. He had to choose. Between brothers. His brothers. The people he cared the most about. Choose one side, and fight against the other. Hurt the other side.

This was a hopeless decision. That much was painfully obvious. There was no right answer. There was a wrong answer though.

Wilbur, his twin. The one who had been by his side since the beginning. Before Tommy. Before Phil. It had been the two of them. Wandering around the blistering heat of the Neither, hand in hand, trying their best to avoid everyone. They were freaks in this world and shunned by most of the bastions that were in the area. Hybrids were not very well-liked by most people. Mob or not.

But Tommy. His younger brother. Annoying as he could be, Techno knew that he could never actually hurt the boy. He cared too deeply for the teen. From all of the thunderstorms that they had stayed up together because Tommy was scared, to occasionally visiting his server to help with the potato war, Techno knew that the boy looked up to him. Watching with wide eyes in any tournaments that he could catch, shouting from the sides lines to “kick their sorry butts,” and that they were “nothing but a bunch of pussies.”

They were his _brothers_. How, how was he supposed to choose between the two. He was supposed to protect them. Both of them. Not fight against them.

His brain felt like it was filled with static. But Dream was expecting an answer. An answer now. An answer to a question that he had, never in a million years thought would be asked?

Whose side will you take?

Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Techno made his choice and prayed that he could be forgiven.

“Tommy,” he said, trying his best to keep the shake out of his voice. Wilbur had Dream on his side, a literal demi-god. Chances are he would be alright with that kind of power on his side. But Tommy would be alone if he sided with his twin. He would be in danger. And that was not something that Techno could let happen. The actual sides of the matter did not matter, it was what was going to keep his brothers safe. “I am on Tommy’s side.”

“Ummm, interesting.”

His hand still hovered near his sword. He did not like that tone of voice. He did not like this situation. This was all...too odd. It left a sinking feeling in his stomach. And he had learned a long time ago to listen to his instincts.

“Well, if that is your decision,” Dream said, backing up a bit before turning his back on the piglin.

“Yeah, get out of here, ya nerd,” Techno said, turning back to his mining, acutely aware of how he had turned his back on an enemy. “But Dream…”  
He turned back around, just to find the demi-god looking over his shoulder. 

“Don’t fuck with my brothers.”


	2. Trust Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as the other chapters that I have written, but still important exposition.

Things had gotten...better. Not perfect, but better. Ever since Technoblade had joined their rebellion, things had gotten much better than they had been in the past weeks. Just him and Wilbur has been getting rough, to say the very least.

His older brother had started talking about crazy things. Things that did not make sense. He started talks of blowing up the country that they had worked so hard to make. Talks of taking the whole thing down. Talks of an unfinished symphony that needed to be completed.

It made Tommy nervous. No, it made him angry.

Angry that his brother, the leader of the nation, was so willing to throw it all away. That the literal years that they had spent fighting for this would be given up on. The lives that they had lost would be a waste.

And Tommy was not going to let that happen. No matter what, that was not going to happen. He would save his nation.

And he would save Tubbo.

It had been...hard to say the least to be away from his best friend. The boy under the constant rule of Schlatt, a tyrant to say the least. He had never actually met the man, but the stories that he had heard from Wilbur were enough to make him hate the man.

The ram’s heart only had room for money and power. That was it. Everything else he could care less about. An unfit ruler for L’manburg. They had to save the people as soon as possible.

And yet Wilbur talked of destroying it.

So when Technoblade had arrived, he hugged his eldest brother with all of his might, the anger and fear from the past few weeks seeping into the hug. Techno had never been one for feelings, but he returned the hug, cautiously as he did, and the two were set to work.

But things were much better now.

The occasional gifts that he got from his piglin hybrid brother. A red cloak, weighted, and going down to his hips, along with a chest harness that wrapped around him, pockets, and other things for weapons.

They made him feel safe.

Especially the soft breathing of his brother as he dozed off into the most restful sleep than he had in a while.

The work was still hard. And he still complained about it. But knowing where the Blood God was at all times was helpful, to say the least.

Like right now.

He knew that the piglin hybrid was in the Nether. Mining, like he had been told to. And he was here.

Alone.

With Wilbur.

A soft rap of knuckles on the brewing room made him jump, almost dropping the potion that he had been working on. Tommy turned fast, hand near his weapon.

The tall, lanky silhouette of his brother stood in the doorway, long brown coat floating around him.

His breath hitched in his chest.

Wilbur and him….we're not getting along nowadays. Which was why Tommy hung out with Techno most days. And being alone with Wilbur often leads to fights.

“Hello Tommy,” the ex-president said. He sauntered into the room, and Tommy could not help but tense up at the approach of his older brother.

Wilbur stopped.

And tiled his head.

“There’s no need for that, little brother. I’m just here to talk.”

“Yeah, your version of talking often involves a lot of yelling bitch,” Tommy forced himself to relax and put his back to his brother, back to the potions. As much as they disagreed, Wilbur would not hurt him. That much he knew. No matter how much their views were different, Tommy knew that there was no way that his brother could hurt him.

They were still brothers after all.

“You know we have been at odds a lot recently,” Wilbur said, standing next to his brother, while he worked. Placing an arm around him.

Tommy shrugged it off.

“Yeah, because you’re being a massive dickhead. Not to mention an idiot.”

“Well yes, that is true.”

Ok, that was odd.

Since when was Wilbur agreeing with him? Since when did Wilbur start to agree with him period?

“Why are you acting all weird?” Tommy turned to face his brother.

His face looked so weird. A small that was a little too wide stretched across his pale skin. The two torches in the room sending odd shadows to dance across his face. Dark bags under his eyes. His eyes themselves looked...off. The ex-president stood up tall, and proud. Something that he had not done in a very long time. Ever since they had been exiled from L’manburg.

A lot of things changed when they got exiled from L’manburg.

None of them for the better.

“I just think that I owe you an apology.”

“An apology?” this was starting to get too weird.

“An apology.”

Wilbur’s face softened a little as he repeated himself. More of the brother that Tommy knew growing up. The one he had first left home with, and followed into war. The one who would sing him songs when he had bad nightmares. The one who would ruffle his hair, and tease him when he made stupid mistakes.

Tommy did not realize how much he missed his brother until now.

He sighed.

“Well, yeah you do owe me an apology, bitch. So get on with it.”

Wilbur chuckled.

“I’m sorry for opposing all of your decisions. And for being such an arse as of recently. And, when it comes down to it, you’re right. L’manburg is worth saving. We can save it. It’s going to be hard, but that should not stop us from trying.

“And we can take it back as a family. As brothers. We have Techno now, and once the war is over, we should invite Phil over to show him what we have done.

“I think he would be proud of us.”

Tommy forced himself to take all of Wilbur’s words at face value. Because he wanted them to be true. So he forced that uneasy feeling down, down, down

“Well, apology accepted, but don’t think that this makes us even.”

Wilbur laughed again. Tommy had missed his brother’s laugh.

“I would never think such a thing.” He ruffled the blond’s hair, before turning to leave.

He paused at the doorway, looking back at his brother in the potion room.

“We’ll take L’manburg back.”

And with that, he left.

Tommy turned back to the potions with a smile on his face, filling his chest with fresh new air, and letting go a breath that he felt like he had been holding for months.

Things were going to get better. They were going to take back their nation. He would get to see Tubbo again. He would get to see his father again. They would be together, all together again. Able to fight alongside them, like it should be.

As he resumed his potion-making, Tommy ignored the sinking feeling in his chest. The feeling that he had learned a long time ago to not ignore.

Because everything was getting better.

And this would all be over soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry! Things are going to get better! Wilbur said so....


	3. Introducing: A Mind No Longer At Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters to get to angst?? Exposition?? What is this? Weird man...

It had been about a week since Dream had stopped Techno in the Nether. It had been a stressful week to say the very least. And not because the fights had gotten worse. No, they had stopped. Completely. Wilbur stopped aggravating the teen and even started to encourage him. Tommy started to relax with his older brother again, even to the point where he did not constantly want to be at Techno’s side. To the point where he would leave for hours, and come back, covered in dirt, and exchanging light-hearted insults with the twin.

It put Techno on edge. It made him nervous. Now more than ever, Techno tried to keep his brothers at peace, and the fact that they were doing that on their own was unnerving.

Whenever Tommy left his side his heart would pick up pace, especially if he was around Wilbur, staying like that until the blonde returned. But he did not know how much Wilbur knew. He did not know if Dream had told him anything about their little conversation in the Nether. He did not want to upset his twin. He wanted to not choose sides as long as he could.

But the shivers down his spine every time his back was to his twin was starting to become unbearable. And he hated the fact that it was even happening. That he felt that way. Wilbur was supposed to be his brother. His twin. The person he had trusted for the longest amount of time. The one he had shared bread with when in the Nether when they had just been kids. The one he had gone to with nightmares when they were still untrusting of Phil. The one who had come to him with news of war, and asking for help.

He would be betraying someone no matter what. And, at this point, Techno did not know if he wanted to get it over with or hurry it up. Just let it be over, and move on.

And a part of him wanted to act like the conversation never happened. Like him and his two brothers were all on the same side, and there was nothing that was going to drive them apart. That they were going to fight and win this war, go back to their father and tell him about all of the amazing adventures that they had while away. And the avian hybrid would tell them how proud of them he was, and Techno could finally retire. Find a server like his father had, and settle down. Start a garden. Live a peaceful life without violence. Without blood. Just peace.

And yet he tracked the footsteps of his brother down the stairs, to the field of potatoes where he worked and felt the grip tighten around the hoe he was holding.

If worse came to worse, he would wound his brother. Techno knew that he could never kill his twin, but wound, in order to get Tommy and getaway, was ok in his books. Especially with the odd circumstances, he had been thrown into.

“Hello Techno,” Wilbur’s voice echoed through the cavern a little, leaning against the entryway of the farm. Techno forced his shoulders to relax and turned to face his brother.

“Hey Wilbur.” the piglin hybrid started to look for the youngest. He was nowhere in sight. “Where's Tommy?”

“Oh, he’s out.”

That was not the answer that he wanted. That was nowhere near the answer that he wanted. The familiar anxiety around being close to his twin started to rise in his throat, only made worse by not knowing where his younger brother was.

“Out where?”

“Walk with me Techno.”

Wilbur turned with a swish. Techno wondered if he had a choice.

With a sigh, the piglin hybrid got up as well, and followed after his twin, picking up where he had put his cloak and swinging it over his broad shoulders, careful to not disturb the crown on his head.

He held the sheathed sword in his hand. Sure he could put it on, but he was already losing sight of Wilbur, since he apparently did not want to wait, and needed to pick up the pace. Techno ran to catch up.

“What are we doing?” he asked, once he was at the same pace as the leader of Pogtopia.

“Techno, how do you feel about Manburg?”

This rang wrong in his head. It was a weird question. And Techno did not like where it was most likely going. His grip tightened on the sword.

“Well, we’re fighting against them, I suppose. So, bad? I’ll admit, I don’t know much about them.”

Wilbur turned down another pathway, into a tunnel that was completely unknown to him. It was tight and hidden. No one would know it was there if it had not been pointed out. The anxiety was starting to get worse.

“Since when has this existed?” Techno tried to keep his tone as light and non-threatening as possible, but he had never been as good of a liar as Wilbur. He cringed as the anxiety bleeds into his monotone voice, watching as Wilbur’s whole demeanor started to shift into something that was not normal for his brother.

“What do you think of Schlatt?”

Why was he dodging the question? Techno repressed the feeling to start a fight. This was his brother. As much as their ideals might differ, he knew that they would never hurt each other. The fighting instincts that he had to attack first before someone else took that opportunity were screaming at him. His instincts were very rarely wrong, and he wished with all of his heart that this was just another one of those rare instances.

“He’s a guy. A hybrid, I think. Tubbo is his son. What are you getting at?”

The tunnel opened up to a large room. Tall and spacious. With nothing in it. It was completely empty, creating an odd echo with Wilbur’s voice that Techno did not care for. A few torches lit it, but they were much too high to reach.

“Techno I know about that conversation you had with Dream.” Wilbur turned to face him, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. The piglin hybrid took a step back. This was not his brother. Who the fuck was he looking at? “I know that you are going to choose   
Tommy over me. And at first, I will admit, I was a little hurt. My own twin, choosing someone else over me.”

“Wilbur…”

“But no, I get it. He’s our little brother. I’m sure that you feel the need to protect him. And I’m sure that dad gave you some kind of orders to keep him safe as well. So I don’t blame you, I really don’t. But that does mean that we are enemies now.”

“Wil, listen to me, we don’t have to be enemies.”

“So you are going to have to forgive me for what is going to happen. You’re just too big of a risk to have walking around here. I mean hell, plans must move forward, and you are Technoblade. The Blood God. And I can’t fight you. And Dream does not like how close the odds are to you beating him, even with his new fancy admin powers. So…”

Someone kicked in his knee from behind, making Techno fall. Before he had the chance to rebound at attack the person behind him, there was an arm around his neck and a blade to his throat. The whole weight of someone rested on his back, pressing his chest and torso into the stone floor under him. A knee pressed against his back, squishing his face into the ground. Techno grunted at the action, trying to glance up and look at who was holding him down.

Green flashed in his peripheral.

Of fucking course.

Wilbur started to approach, Techno only able to see his shoes from where he was being held. He could thrash. He could start trying to move and hope that he would catch Dream off balance and throw him off. He did not have all of the gear needed to beat the   
admin in a fight but that was important at the moment. What was important was getting back to Tommy and getting away from this place. Something that he should have done a long time ago. It had not been a safe place to be for a very, very long time.

“So we are going to have to take you out of commission for a while. You understand right?”

“Will…” his chest was being crushed. It was getting hard to breath.

“Now of course there was an issue that you are my twin. And I don’t think that I can kill you.”

Wilbur squatted down to his level, grabbing a fistful of long pink hair, the same hair he had, at one point, so gently braided, and lifting Techno’s head.

He surpassed a cry of pain as Dream started to press down his back when he started to squirm.

Oh, this was very bad.

“So we had to come up with something just as effective.”

Wilbur moved the hair away from his neck, exposing the slightly pink flesh.

“Wil, wai….”

The needle pierced the skin, sinking into his veins underneath. Something was being forced into him.

Techno grunted, thrashing his head away from the needle, trying to get away. Wilbur tightening his grip on his brother’s hair, forcing his head to stay put.

“Wilbur please,” Techno gasped. It was getting too hard to breath. He needed to take air in, but Dream was crushing him, and the upward turn of his head was constricting his throat. Black spots were starting to dance across his vision. It was getting too hard. He needed to breathe, he needed to.

The needle retracted from his neck, and Wilbur let go of his hair. He let out a gasp, just as Dream got off of him, letting him lay on the stone, gasping for air. A hand flew up to where the needle had been stuck, a slight trickle of blood still flowing from the wound.

Techno sprung up, immediately looking at the two threats in the room. They stood on either side of him, Dream had his hands on his sweatshirt pocket, while Wilbur stood relaxed, looking at his twin who had taken a defensive position.

Why were they being so casual? Why had they let him up?

Techno growled, letting the sound reverberate through the room, hoping, praying that it would get one of them off of his back. Make them take a step back, something! Because all of a sudden, this large room seemed too small. It was crushing him.

“Technoblade,” Wilbur said. Techno’s head snapped to look at his twin. His heart sank. That was not his twin. A Cheshire, too wide grin on his face. A mix of fascination and anticipation was written all over his expressions. And the only thought that Techno’s rage-filled mind could hold onto was: who is that? “Techno, my brother. How are you feeling?”

_Fine,_ he wanted to spite out.

Instead, he kicked up the sword that still laid on the ground, and pulled the weapon out, still keeping his eyes on both the enemy and his brother. They were not moving. He had been disarmed for five seconds and they were not moving. Not making any advancements. Techno squished the growing anxiety with battle focus.

“You must be feeling something,” Wilbur continued, starting to make circles around him. Dream followed suit. “A little tired. A bit of a headache. I suppose it does take a moment to take effect. We’ve never tried it on a more sentient creature before, but all of the other tests….well let’s just say that the creatures did not have a very good time.”

The room was starting to close in around him. The edges of his vision started to blackout. It felt similar to blood loss, but not. He felt nauseous. Sick to his very core. But he kept the blade in front of him.

“And it took us a long time to find this creature. Or well, find and then refine this creature. Could not tell you where it was found, that was Dream and you know how he is about his secrets.”

His legs were starting to shake. His arms felt heavy. A light static started to creep into his head.

“But they were so hard to work with. I mean, I would like to think that I am good at brewing things, but my god these little buggers were just impossible. You got the final product. Be proud of that, because they are one of a kind.”

His head was starting to pound. Throbbing with pain, as Techno became aware of every beat of his heart. Every time it forced blood into his veins. The static was getting louder, starting to feel like it was taking over his head. Techno gave his head a sharp shake, trying to get rid of it.

“Ahhh, there we go. So I’ll ask you again, dear brother of mine: how are you feeling?”

The static was loud. It was too loud. Techno dropped his sword, immediately disregarding the instincts that screamed at him for such a dumb move, and put his hands over his ears. His head was going to explode. There was too much blood. There was too much pressure. There was too much….

Too much…..

The static started to even out to a single tone. Techno released his hands, scrunching his face in confusion. There was something wrong about this.

It started to come into focus. Like the static had been far away, but was coming closer. Becoming more audible. And it was morphing. Changing. Starting to sound more like….

Voices.

Techno’s chest clenched.

As the voices exploded in his head. Screaming. Taking over every part of his mind before he was sure his skull was full.

There were tones. And talks, and the overwhelming sounds of a crowd all existing in his head. All echoing through his mind until he could not hold onto a single thought. A harsh, painful shiver ran through his mind as he vaguely felt his knees hit the hard stone under him.

As his hands covered his ears, pressing them hard against his skull, begging, praying for them to give him a moment. To….

“Oh brother there is no reason to scream,” Wilbur was next to him. Techno lifted his head. His chest heaved for air, and his throat was raw. He had been screaming. And he could not hear it. “Although I guess it is only natural. The others did that too before they scratched their skulls out. But I’m sure you’re smarter than that.”

Wilbur stood up, and Techno followed him with his eyes, watching as Dream stood behind his brother. The humiliation made Techno bow his head.

“We’re going to leave you to get acquainted. Be back in a day.”

“Wait, Wilbur no!”

The voices picked up their chattering again. Wracking his skull, making it heavy, and forcing him to place it on the ground.

This time, he felt the scream.

“Wilbur!” sadness painted his voice. Pain, humiliation, betrayal adding accents to the normally monotone voice of the Blood God. “Wilbur please! Don’t leave me! They’re so loud. They’re….”

There was a loud sound that echoed through the space.

And he was alone.

“NO!” Techno slammed his fists into the ground as the voices started to chatter again.

_Ohhh, he’s upset_

_Technolame_

_Alone_

_You deserve this_

_Lmao cry_

_Cry about it_

_Omg guys I think he’s actually going to cry_

“Stop it! Shut up!”

His head pounded with every word that was spoken through it that was not his own. The shouts and screams of the voices. Egging him on. Making him shrink down, and curl upon himself, the cold stone floor his only comfort.

“Wilbur!”

The voices taunted him. An endless racket that tried as he might he could not shut up. And he tried.

He only stopped slamming his head against the floor when blood started to seep through the cuts.

The voices kept this up. Speaking, and mocking. While Techno writhed on the floor, curling up to try to make himself as small as possible, unable to move from the puddle out of his own blood. He whimpered and cried. Sometimes for the names of his family, brothers, and father. But most of the time was spent in complete and utter agony that was going through his head. The one that would not let him go. The ones that he could not _shut up_. 

As his eyes started to close, completely exhausted, as the voices kept talking, _they just kept fucking talking_ , and he barely had the energy to whisper the begs for them to stop, his mind found room to wonder where Tommy was.

And how the fuck they were going to get out of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sure there are no last consequences to this.


	4. Hiding Horns and Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *appears out of the ether with more EXPOSITION*
> 
> Exposition is important kids, even if it's not as exciting to write. Not everything can be angst.
> 
> ...
> 
> I mean it can BUT....

Tubbo got ready for his trip to Pogtopia. It was decently late, and with any luck, both Schlatt and Quackity would be asleep and not notice him sneaking out.

Sliding his backpack on with basic things that he would need for the trip, as well as blankets and food that were always needed in Pogtopia.

He did his best to shove the guilt deep down, and not think about the fact that he was betraying his father. But he only really wanted to see Tommy. He told Wilbur that he would be a spy so the man would let him in, but never intended on going through with it. Any information that he deemed safe enough to tell the rebels he would report back and spend the rest of the time he spent hanging around Tommy. Which, by almost default, meant he was also spending time with the eldest brother of their family, Technoblade.

Tubbo knew about Techno. His reputation preceded him. Strong, ruthless, and smart. A danger on the battlefield, if someone had the piglin hybrid on their side, chances are they were going to win were very high.

So when the socially awkward piglin hybrid tended dutifully to a potato field, Tubbo was a little taken back, to say the least. The way he wrung his hands when talking to someone new, not making eye contact most of the time, opting to just keep his eyes on the ground. He was an odd guy.

But nice. He had given both of them a cooked potato while they “helped” him with the field, only occasionally scolding them for not doing any work for the past five minutes. And he started to warm up to the ram boy by the time he had to leave, joking more with Tommy, even sometimes bringing Tubbo into the jokes.

That was last week. Basically, the first time had interacted with the hybrid. Besides being a little awkward, he had been nice. Tubbo liked him. Tommy seemed annoyed by the piglin hybrid. Constantly. But what could you expect from brothers.

Tubbo smiled at the fond memory, before slipping out of his room in the White House. The halls were dark and big, much too big for the amount of people who lived here. Which was a grand total of four, himself, his father, Quackity, and Fundy. It was easier to get work done when they were all in the same place. And hell did his father make them work.

Schlatt, or President Schlatt, was a hardass. That much was something that Tubbo knew and was very familiar with. His father expected things to get done when they were told. It was something he grew up with and was used to. The tall, ram hybrid man, with horns that hooked around two fluffy ears, and fangs that flashed every time he opened his mouth. A fluffy tail that, and rough callused hands, that looked like they could choke a man.

This was the J Schlatt that people knew. The scary, intimidating ram, that would kill anyone who defined him.

Tubbo knew a different version.

He knew the version that had held him close whenever he had a nightmare. The version who had always made sure that there was food in his belly, and clean clothes to wear. The version who read books in different voices when a new character came along.

The version who he had hugged goodbye before waking into the SMP portal. Dream had allowed him in, not his father, saying that he had to do a more thorough background check because of his shady past. And because they did not really have any other place to go, Schlatt had let his son go in first, not wanting him to be homeless while they wanted the screening to get done. Squeaking him tight, telling him to be strong, and that he would meet up with him as soon as possible.

And then the war happened.

There were only a few times that Tubbo had seen his father cry. When they were reunited was one of them.

The way that his slitted yellow eyes kept railing back to his son while he was trying to make a presidential speech. Slipping away fast, before colliding with his son once they were alone. Holding him close, and tight against his chest, apologizing for leaving. He had done a very intense scan of Tubbo after that, tears appearing in his eyes after every scar, every battle that Tubbo told him about.

They had fallen asleep on the couch that night, not wanting to be far from each other, for the fear that they would be ripped apart again. Feeling his father’s slowly rising and falling chest under him, Tubbo felt more peace than he had since he had arrived at the SMP.

And then his father had won the election.

And banished Tommy and Wilbur.

Tubbo did not know he could be that angry at his father until that moment. Screaming and yelling at him.

“Why did you do that?”

“We had finally won!”

“They did not deserve that!”

And words that Tubbo knew that he could never take back.

“I hate you.”

It had slipped out without thinking. Immediately clamping his hands around his mouth. But it was easy to see the hurt in his father’s eyes. The way that he had stood there and taken all of his sons berating, not saying a single word.

Tubbo had fallen into Schlatt’s arms after that, crying and sobbing into his chest, as clung to the expensive suit. He did not deserve the comfort he got, especially after the words he had just said. And yet Schlatt gave it to him, without another thought or word.

Not another word of that night had been spoken since then. An apology burned holes into the back of Tubbo’s throat, but he could not find the courage to say it. As much as he loved his father, a small part of him was still angry. Tommy was his only friend, and now he had to sneak around to see him. And the president had been a direct cause of that.

So they carried on as normal. Because what else could they do? Running a country was hard work, and they needed everyone to help with it.

No one knew that Schlatt and Tubbo were related, although jokes had been made about how they were both ram hybrids. Tubbo did not really understand why it was being kept a secret but followed instructions none-the-less. If it was for the best, then Tubbo trusted his father.

And Quackity and Fundy had appeared to warm up to the old man. Making jokes, and actually interacting with him. A stark contrast to the first week of work, where everyone had avoided even making eye contact with the old ram. And while Tubbo missed the brothers that had been banished, he had to admit that Manburg had never been better than it was under this administration. It was thriving with trade and people, an actual economy that was growing and healthy. Tubbo was proud of the work that he and his father had done.

Together. As a team.

Now if only Tommy was allowed back.

As much as the young ram felt bad for only thinking about the blonde-haired boy, he also meant a lot to Tubbo. Almost as much as his father did. And he wanted to see him.

These weekly visits meant a lot to him, and he would keep going as much as he could. 

Obviously, Schlatt did not know about these little outings, and there was no way that Tubbo was going to tell him. As much as it burned him, it was the last thing that he wanted to do.

The halls were dark and sleepy from a full day of work. But there was still one light on. The one that led to the president’s office. Schlatt was staying up late again.

His sleep schedule had already been screwed before, but since becoming president, it had become completely out of whack. He would take naps sporadically during the day and night while staying up for far too long stretches. Tubbo was not sure the last time he had seen his father sleep eight hours straight.

It was unhealthy, and the ram refused to change. There was always something going on, something that needed to be done. Tubbo worried for his father, all of the guilt and remorse crashing down on him as he peered into Schlatt’s office, watching the man read over paperwork, lazily stirring a whiskey glass in his hand.

The young ram made a mental note to actually make his dad go to bed, before slipping out of the door, and starting to make his way to the forest.

L’Manburg, or Manburg, as it had renamed, had actually been doing better since Schlatt had been put into power. Things were running more smoothly. Tubbo did not really want to admit it, since Wilbur had put so much of his time and energy into making the nation, but the man was not really meant to lead. He could lead a revolution, but running a country when those conflicts were over had quickly led him to corruption. As the edges of his personality and policies making had started to become rigid and rough with greed, 

Tubbo could almost be happy that his father had taken over since then. Although it did not mean that he did not miss the two brothers dearly, and wanted them back as soon as possible.

Removing the dirt where the rebellious hideout was, Tubbo slipped into the room, making his way down the hidden staircase, to the lower levels of the cavern.

It was alight with torches every so often, warmer than it had been in days, with the fires that were almost always smelting something. Tommy stood with his back to his friend, placing more coal into the bed of the cobblestone ovens.

Tommy has gotten stronger. Much stronger. His back was defined with muscles, and his arms started to bulge with more density from the work he had been doing. In the weeks before Techno had come to Pogtopia, Tubbo had started to actually be afraid for his friend. Skinny and gaunt, withering away with the weight of being kicked out of his home, and having to start over again.

After the pig hybrid had arrived, there had been a clear turnaround in the health of both brothers. It was a relief to see really. Tubbo hated the way that both of them had been fading away, knowing that there was nothing that he could do to help.

“Tommy!” Tubbo shouted out, raising a hand in greeting, descending the last bit of the steps as carefully as he could. Techno had instilled railing to them, but Wilbur had insisted that he did not need them, so they had been taken off. That was the first brotherly interaction that Tubbo had seen between the two. It felt like a sacred memory.

“Big T!” Tommy said, setting down the coal, and running up to his friend, grabbing him in a tight hug. Oh yeah, he had gotten much stronger. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Tubbo returned the hug, almost melting into the touch of his best friend. He had really missed this.

But something was missing.

Ever since Techno had joined their little rebellion, he was not far behind Tommy, the two of them basically going everywhere together. And now the pink-haired warrior was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Techno?” Tubbo said, getting set down by his friend.

Tommy looked around, like he had just realized that his brother was not around. The confused, and slightly hurt expression on his face only confirmed that that was what had happened.

“I don’t know.”

There was a set of unease that hovered over the two. And even though it was not Tubbo’s fault, he still felt bad.

“He must just be mining somewhere,” the ram said, trying to take Tommy’s mind off of it, as the blonde kept his eyes trained behind him, like his brother was just going to magically appear out of nowhere.

“I have not seen him all day I think.”

That was concerning.

“Well, we can go looking for him. I’m sure Wilbur knows where he is.”

“Yeah.”

“And he’s Technoblade. It’s not like he can’t handle himself. He’ll be fine.”

Tommy gave a sigh, before looking back at his friend. A tired smile, that almost reached up to his eyes. He was worried, but Tubbo could see that his words had helped, and that was all that he needed to know.

“You’re right Big T. He’ll be fine. Come on! We were mining earlier, and found the coolest place ever.”

Tubbo smiled, letting his best friend grab onto his hand and drag him deeper into the cavern. Tommy had become much more willing to be physically affectionate since the exile. And while that broke Tubbo’s heart, he could not say that he was not upset by the increased physical affection from his best friend.

For at least a little while, the two were allowed to forget about the wars, about the opposing sides, and politics. Exploring a cave, and being kids. The way that it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TUBBO! Get ready for a lot of DadSchlatt because he gives me life.
> 
> And I'm sure that Techno's fine.....he's fine.....everything is fine.....
> 
> More angst next chapter, but this was important to get some more feel for the characters, and what's going on. Don't worry, I will feed you angst, it's just going to take time.


	5. Unwilling Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annddd, we're back with the updates for this one! I'm had not kind of force myself to get this chapter done, because there are so many other things that happen later in this fic, and I want to write those, but I had to get through this first, and uggghh. But we got there! So here it is! Not the best, but it'll do.

When sleep finally started to release Techno from its grip, it was slow. Painfully slow almost. Dragging himself out of the darkness with bleeding fingers, back into his body. He was greeted by a cacophony of voices.

_Wakey wakey_

_He’s alive!_

_Awake Pog!_

_Get up_

_Technolame_

_Bedhead!_

Voices that were not his thoughts shocked him out of the rest of his sleepy stupor. He shot upright, looking around for all of the people who were talking to him. He groaned as soon as he moved, the headache pounding against his head once again. The cacophony slowed down a little.

_Hurt?_

_Hurt lame…._

_Why he sound like that?_

_Guys, it’s because of us_

_E_

_E_

_E_

“Stop,” Techno whimpered, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt sick. Nauseous. He felt the empty bile of his stomach start to rise in his throat. “Stop, please. I-I need a moment, please just…..”

_Calm down chat_

_Calm down_

_Shhhhh_

_Stop talking too loud_

_He’s hurt_

_Calm_

_Calm pog_

His headache slowed. Taking a few ragged breaths into his shredded lungs. Before the bile forced itself up the rest of his throat, and out of his mouth.

Catching himself on his hands, Techno shifted over to his knees, ratcheting into the stone beneath him. His stomach was empty, not realizing that he could not remember the last time that he had actually eaten something. Only a disgusting stomach bile creating a small puddle under him. Techno’s body shook with sickness, balling his hands into fists as his abdomen muscles spasmed, demanding that he throw more up when his stomach was completely empty.

Dry heaving in the dark stone room, tears streaming down his face, he was in so much pain. The headache was getting worse, and everything was too overwhelming. Techno could feel himself started to spiral, the weight of everything that was happening wrapping around his throat, suffocating every fighting part of him, leaving with just a hollow husk of the warrior he wanted. Sobs started to build up in his chest, catching in his throat, making him choke in his breath, desperately trying to bring in any air. His lungs burned, set aflame by the lack of air.

Techno started to panic. Unable to take in air. Unable to stop himself to endlessly retch. His brain started to cloud with panic.

_Calm down,_ he tried to order himself, _calm down, you need to breathe. You’re not breathing. Remember what Phil taught you. In four, hold for eight, out for five. In four, hold for eight, out for five. In four…._

The piglin hybrid let the mantra repeat in his head. Trying his best to take in the thick, heavy air around him. It dragged down his lungs, like there had been stones placed in the bottom of them. His arms shook. Strained muscles screamed out against overuse.

He tried to keep his mind from drifting to memories that were too painful to remember. Of Phil wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight whenever he had a panic attack. Of soft hugs and warm drinks that made the world a little more bearable.

His arms gave out. With the last bit of strength that he had, Techno pulled his body to the side so he was not laying in his own bile and filth. His chest heaved with exhaustion, slowly allowing him to breathe.

And the voices did not stop.

_Technolame_

_Weak_

_Why he breathe like that?_

_So laaaammmmeee_

_lmao_

_Hurt boi_

_Pigman hurt_

_Technosupport_

He was not sure how long he laid there. On his side. Letting his breathing catch up with the rest of his body. After a certain point, his vision went black while his eyes stayed open. His mind retreated deep within him. His thoughts left, thinking about nothing, and everything at the same time. Looking beyond the walls around him, and into the nothingness.  
His mouth hung open, slack, while a bit of drool started to drip out.

Distantly, he thought about what a mess he was. The echo of voices in his head sent shivers down his spine, keeping a constant flow of adrenaline through his veins, his pupils dilated with the chemical. Slack and loose, laying next to the bile of his own stomach, hungry and tired, with the overshadowing feeling that he needed to protect his younger brother.

_Failure_

_You failed them_

_Who's Tommy?_

_Why he like this?_

_Technosupport_

_TECHNOSUPPORT!!!_

_Support the boi!!_

The voices started to hum in agreement, softer than before. Letting him collect the scraps of his thoughts and pull them together. Hell, even allowing room for thoughts. His head still felt impossibly full, but at least he could think, at least a little bit.

One breath in.

One breath out.

Techno placed a hand under him and started to peel himself off of the stone floor, and into an upright position. His muscles screamed at being stretched, joints popping into place, and ligaments getting pulled in ways that they had not been for a while. He groaned at the point, letting his head fall into his hands once again.

It was like some kind of sick loop. Trapped forever with the hell that was his brain, trying to rip him open from the inside.

But there was no time for that. There was no time for any of this.

The only solution to this made him want to throw up again, as Techno opened his dried and chapped lips, and talked to the voices in his head.

“Hello,” gods was that his voice? It was scratchy and raw, hurting from the lack of water.

_Hello!_

_Hi_

_Hi!_

_Hello!_

_E_

“Who are you?”

_Call us chat_

_We are chat_

_Chat_

_E_

_E_

_E_

“Chat….ok, I can….ugh,” he stopped for a second, rubbing his eyes. When they all said the same thing it was easier to not let them overwhelm his thoughts, but when they were all going in different directions, it felt like his head had been set on fire. “Ok, everyone just…..where did you come from?”

_Secret_

_;)_

_;)_

_E_

_Secret pog!_

_Can’t tell_

“Well, that’s….not helpful. What do you all even do?”

_Chat!_

_We are chat!_

_E_

_E_

_E_

_E_

_E_

“Ok, ok, ok, I get it, you can stop.”

He was stuck with them. At least for now. There was no time to do research on what “Chat” was, and how to remove them from his increasingly pounding head. Especially not when there was danger around.

Especially when Wilbur had gone insane.

“Do you know what Wilbur is planning?”

_Nope!_

_Yes…_

_;)_

_Yes_

_Not a clue_

_Can’t tell you_

_No_

Again, not helpful.

Taking another deep breath, filling his lungs with the still heavy air around him, Techno took to start standing up.

The door opened. Streams of torchlight fell into it. The hybrid started to get up faster, trying to steady himself in shaky legs, and reached for the sword that was no longer attached to his hip.

A lanky silhouette appeared in front of him. Walking with a kind of grace and confidence that almost made Techno sick. He fought back the instincts to call out to his twin and fall into his arms. Wilbur was no longer safe. He was no longer an alley.

Instead, Techno forced himself to get into a defensive position, as much as he could while still leaning on the wall.

“Oh good!” Wilbur said, clasping his hands together. “You are awake. You know, Tommy has started looking for you, so it would have been very bad if you were still asleep.”

“What have you done to him?” Techno bore his tusks together, flashing as a sign of aggression.

Wilbur smiled, slowing off his much less impressive canine bottom teeth. They had never developed into tusks like Techno’s had, but they were still damn intimidating, especially when he wanted to be.

“Nothing….for now.”

The hybrid tensed. Chat started to buzz a little in his mind, like they were shifting around, trying to get the best seat to see what was happening. It was damn annoying.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, he will keep being unhurt if you follow what I say.”

_Bad_

_Bad man_

_Tommy pog?_

_Whose side are we on?_

_Just got here, what’s going on?_

Techno shook his head, trying to dismiss the voices as best as he could, without breaking eye contact with his twin.

“And what’s stopping me from just killing you right here?”

“Oh nothing really, you could kill me very easily, even in this weakened state. But there is no way that you could defeat Dream in this weakened state. And he had orders to take, what was their name? Oh yes, I believe it is ‘Chat.’ He had orders to take Chat out of your head…..”

“What? How is that….?”

“....and put it into Tommy.”

Techno froze. No, his breathing stopped. No, his mind stopped. No, everything has stopped.

Lazy memories of playing a field with his brothers, while their father watched on, making sure that they did not go very far. Of making flower crowns, and playing “Emperor,” of the little hills that they found. Of listening to Wilbur’s soft playing of his guitar as they set out the picnic they had brought, apple slices and peanut butter and jelly being passed around. Basking in the sun while they listened to Phil tell a story, while Wilbur and Tommy braided Techno’s hair, putting little flowers and beads into it, just like how they had been taught.

Where did those times go? What had happened? What had happened for them to be here, standing in a stone room, while his twin threatened their younger brother with torture if he did not comply?

“What did Dream do to you?”

Wilbur laughed. A crazed, hysterical laugh, having to lean against the doorway for part of it, while Techno watched in horror. That was not his brother. What had happened? Where was his brother?

“What?! Can’t believe that your precious brother would threaten something like that? ‘Couldn’t be my sweet twin Wilbur.’ Is that what you are thinking? Oh, Technoblade. What a fool you are. This is the most alive I have felt in years. Just to go and destroy something. I can understand why you love it so much.”

“This is wrong Wilbur! You’re going to hurt people! You’re going to hurt Tommy!”

“So? He’s a little urchin anyway and needs to be taught a lesson. So I am going to make this crystal clear if you want to keep protecting our ‘dear little brother.’ Don’t tell him about anything that happened. Don’t run away. And don’t tell him about Chat. We will hunt you down. And we will make it hurt when we do. So be a smart little piggy, won’t you?”  
Wilbur turned, letting his coat fan out behind him. Leaving Techno stunned in the middle of the room, mouth hanging open.

How? How did this happen?

“Come along brother,” Wilbur said over his shoulder, “Tommy’s looking for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love family!


	6. Adjusting to a Life That is Not Your Own Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmmm, normally I have something nice, or witty to say here, but no thoughts...
> 
> So, hedgehogs, eh?

Weeks were starting to pass. When Wilbur had let Techno out of the stone room, he had gone straight to the place where they showered, trying to scrub all of the grime and blood off of him. There were bruises all around his ribs from where Dream had stepped on him, letting his hands lightly brush past those parts of him.

The weight of what was going on had not set in yet. They did not set in until he saw Tommy, walking around Pogtopia like nothing was wrong. The blonde face lit up when he saw his brother, and Techno felt like he was going to cry.

“Hey! Blade! Where have you, _oof_ …”

Tommy did not get a chance to finish. The hybrid slammed into him, almost picking up his little brother, burying his face into the crook of his neck, desperately trying to hold the tears in.

“Hey, Big Man? What’s wrong?”

The younger gently put his arms around his older brother, awkward, almost like he was not sure if he was allowed to do this.

They did not speak of that moment ever again.

But the piglin hybrid had started to become much more protective of his younger brother, barely letting Tommy out of his sight. Techno could not stop himself from tensing up whenever Wilbur walked by them, getting only worse when their supposed “leader” would stop and talk to the two.

The voices that echoed through his mind were no easier to handle. There were times where he would wake up with a pounding headache, pressing his head in between his knees, trying to will it away. It never worked.

They told him unhelpful things. He learned very fast that the voices liked to lie. And if he listened to them, he would be mocked, berated for hours on end with no break. Sometimes he talked to them, and they seemed to like that. But that just made it worse when he had to ignore them. They would scream and yell, causing a ruckus, and making his head feel like it was going to be split in half until there was no more room for his own thoughts.

That was when it was the worst. When he could no longer find himself in his own head. Having it sit down, and take deep shuttered breaths to try to get them to stop. To just get them to shut up. Staring off into space for minutes, sometimes hours on end, only to be found by a concerned Tommy.

He never talked about those moments either. Even when they were getting more frequent. Tommy always told him that if he “ever needed to talk, Big Man is here.”

Techno simply gave a sad smile, nodded, and carried on with his day.

Weeks blurred by, barely able to get any sleep because of the voices, but refusing to leave Tommy in a room alone left Techno sitting in the dark most of the time, staring into nothing.

A thought was starting to get more and more appealing as the long hours dragged on, his only company being the voices that were driving him insane: call dad.

There were times, so many times, where he was close to doing it. His communicator out, finger hovering over his father’s contact, tears rolling down his face, and his chest convulsing with sobs. Techno knew that Phil would come. He would be there within the hour, pulling him and Tommy into a warm hug, where all of his problems would melt away, feeling the reassuring barrier of his dad’s wings wrap around him. Feeling safe was not something that Techno had had for a very long time.

And then Chat pointed out that Wilbur would hurt Tommy then. That they would be placed into his little brother’s head. There was no guarantee that Phil could protect them, and while Techno was strong, the doubt that he could lose was starting to take hold. The last thing he wanted was to put this curse on Tommy.

So he waited. And waited. And suffered.... And stayed awake for long hours, sobbing silently into his elbow, trying to not wake Tommy up. And he waited.

And then the festival was announced.

Wilbur seethed at the news, saying how it was a disgrace. That they had no right to celebrate something that had been taken from him, before grilling Tubbo for details. Admittedly, the young ram did not know a lot but shared what he could to the “rightful leader” of Manburg. Or L’Manburg. Whatever. Techno was quickly hating the whole nation, no matter what name it went under. It had caused a lot of pain already, and he was starting to think that it was better blown to smithereens. That idea was quickly dismissed when he remembered that Tommy’s best friend still lived there. But the thought was still nice. A smoldering pile of what was once a symphony, while Wilbur cried at its destruction. Maybe his twin would realize how petty and wrong this all was.

Maybe Wilbur would take Chat out of his mind.

***

A plan was hatched.

Techno was the only one who had received an invitation since his presence on the server was known, but no one knew where he stood with the nations. He would go in, get close, and see if there was any information he could get out of them, before reporting back to Pogtopia.

Wilbur told him to prepare for a fight since this could be their chance to take out Schlatt. He would most likely have a respawn place, but it would at least take him out of commission for a while. Respawning hurt. And there were less pleasant consequences for death.

The piglin hybrid gave a tired nod, before getting prepared.

The work was tedious and allowed him to space off, momentarily forgetting about the voices. That was until they were tired of being ignored, and started screaming in his head, demanding his attention.

Sleep was getting harder and harder to get. Nodding off in the middle of tasks started to be an everyday occurrence for the piglin. And as the festival started to inch closer, so did a growing anxiety. Something that he could not shake. It consumed any little bit of room that he had left in his head, making it that much harder to focus on things, so….

“Techno!” Wilbur’s sharp voice jerked him out of his thoughts, standing up straighter and looking at his brothers around him.

They were in the forest that surrounded Manburg, with the festivities starting to unfold below them. Techno was in his normal garb, royal cape, and crown on his head, with his inventory filled with gapples, rockets, and potions. His sword securely strapped to his hip, and his actual rocket launcher on his other side, both covered by the cape. His cape and crown had been comfort items before Chat had invaded his mind, now they had just become all that more important to him. The weight of the crown in his head was conforming, as well as the weight of the cape. They needed to stay with him at all times. Otherwise, he felt that much more exposed to the world. And being overwhelmed was not something that he needed at the moment.

“Did you hear anything that I said, Techno?” Wilbur asked, crossing his arms, narrowing his glare at his twin. It took everything in the piglin to not grab Tommy, who stood right next to him, and run. Every instinct told him to. But he stuck his feet into the ground and cast his eyes down. Eye contact was always something he had an issue with.

“No, I did not.”

There was an exasperated sigh before Wilbur started to talk again. Techno tried not to flinch.

“You are going to get information, and then come back. That’s it. Keep an eye on your communicator, as things might change to Operation JFK, but as of now, your orders are to start no fights and get as much information as you can. Understood?”

Techno gave a weak nod. Gods he was tried. Maybe after this, he could actually work on getting some sleep. Yeah, that sounded nice.

“Get out there soldier,” Wilbur demanded, giving him a slight push to start walking.

_soldier_

_We are soldier_

_E_

_Serve_

_Soldier pog_

He was painfully aware that he would be leaving Tommy’s side. Something that he had known for weeks leading up to this operation. He had tried to get himself ready to leave his little brother in the needs of someone who could hurt him, but that did not stop Techno from taking a few double takes back at the two. It was alright. Dream had said that there was only one Chat. And anytime they had threatened Tommy, it started with taking Chat out of his own mind first. And they said that there was only one of Chat. As long as they could not get to him, he could keep Tommy safe.

But that did not stop the slow rise of anxiety that was starting to claw at the sides of his throat. This was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

With much less confidence than when he first joined the server, Techno entered the festival area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yes, the festival. Where nothing ever goes wrong. Only good things happen at festivals. Especially when Chat is involved.


	7. A Perfect Day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Festival time!!!

Tubbo sighed in frustration, undoing the tie before trying again. He had been taught how to tie a tie, he swore, but his hands always seemed to forget. This was his fifth time trying and he wanted to get this perfect. This was a festival that they all had been planning for a while, and he was actually excited for it. Even if Tommy was not going to be there, Tubbo knew that his best friend would be watching from the rooftops. Tubbo was going to give a speech, one that he was actually proud of. And Technoblade would be at the actual festival, and Tubbo liked the man. So it needed to be perfect.

Wilbur said that this was purely an information-gathering mission, and that was all, which made Tubbo sigh a breath of relief. Wilbur’s hatred for Schlatt had only seemed to grow in the past few weeks. Every time he seemed to be over at Pogtopia, the leader of their little rebellion would mention his absolute disgust and hatred for the ram. Tommy would always agree.

Tubbo had learned a while ago how to not shift with discomfort when his dad was mentioned, especially when they described how much they despised him. Trained himself to not jump to the defease of Schlatt whenever they brought him up. He did not want to know what would happen if they discovered he was the ram's son.

Schlatt had actually done good for Manburg, helping them get back on their feet after the wars, and providing services that the people needed. Fundy and Niki had even warmed up to him a little bit, at least, even if he was still the hard-ass he had always been. Trade was better than it ever had been, and people were actually starting to like the ram president.

Even though Schlatt said that he did not care about the public perception of him, Tubbo could still see the slight quiver of a smile at the corners of his mouth when people no longer flinched away from him when he walked by.

Things had been doing well. Mostly. Pogtopia was still a bit of an issue, and Tubbo was still sad that Tommy and Wilbur had to be exiled. And Wilbur was starting to get more....colorful in his plans to take the nation back. The rebellion had allied themselves with Dream, and Wilbur was more than willing to use his admin powers to do as much damage as he could. TNT, at one point, had been brought up. None of these plans had been set into stone or moved forward, but just talking about them made Tubbo uncomfortable.

And recently, Techno had been a lot more jumpy than normal, constantly staying around Tommy, barely letting the boy out of his sight, and the growing bags under his eyes was a testimony to how much actual rest he was getting. Rarely contributing with plans, and always having one hand on his sword. Something was off. It made Tubbo’s skin crawl.

He wanted to ask, but there did not seem like any way to ask. “Hey Technoblade. Why are you so jumpy recently?” It did not seem like a very good way to start off a conversation, so the young ram just let it be for now.

Instead, he untied the tie for the sixth time, ripping it out of the knot in frustration.

“If you keep handling it like that, it’s going to break,” a gruff voice said from his doorway. Schlatt walked in, in his dark, obsidian black suit, hands stuffed in his pants pockets, with a red tie that almost seemed to stain the suit like blood. Polished ram horns stood on top of his carefully combed hair, glistening in the early afternoon sun. He would look intimidating to anyone else, but Tubbo could see the amused and fond look in his square, yellow eyes, as he started to take steps closer to his son. He looked a little out of place in how simple Tubbo decorated his room. Green curtains drawn back from his window, with a made be with a single bee plushy at the center of it, dark oak floorboards, and frames around the windows and door. Tubbo had not had a place to call him 'home' since he had joined the server, and was slowly getting used to the fact that he had a place to call his own. Schlatt was basically trying to force the boy to decorate his room with whatever he wanted, always mentioning it when they were out. And it made Tubbo feel warm to know that his dad cared so much, even if he did not say it often. “You’re going to have to learn how to tie a tie eventually.”

“It’s just hard,” Tubbo whined, taking his hands away, and letting his dad start to weave the fabric around each other, “and besides, you do it so much better than I do.”

“I’m not always going to be here to do it Tubbo.”

He flinched at that.

Wilbur talked too much about assassination for Tubbo's liking. It haunted him at night sometimes, just the image of his dad’s lifeless body, bloody and gored, laying on the floor of their White House, with Wilbur standing above him, sword still dripping with blood. The limpness of his limbs made Tubbo shutter, as he remembered pulling the body onto his chest, cradling Schlatt’s face, and begging for him to wake up, while Wilbur stood confused above the two.

He had woken up in a cold sweat too many times from that dream to take those kinds of jokes so lightly. Especially when Schlatt had no idea that there even was talk about an attempt on his life.

The young ram knew that he was going to have to choose very soon. Sooner than he would have liked. Between his father, and the people had fought a war with. The truth of his treachery on sides was going to come out eventually.

But not now. Just a little bit longer, and then he would come clean. Just a little longer of the people he cared about not fighting.

“Tubbo?” Schlatt’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He had been staring at the ground for the past few minutes.

“Don’t say those things,” his mouth felt so dry.

“What things?”

“About not being here.”

The silence was heavy. Too heavy for Tubbo to be comfortable with, as the tie was pulled to his neck, and his collar flipped down. A strong, calloused hand rubbed the top of his head, and he leaned into the touch.

Schlatt kneeled down in front of him, moving his hand to the side of Tubbo’s neck as he pressed their forehead together. The young ram closed his eyes, basking in the warmth, comfort, and protective presence of his dad. He always felt safe when the older ram was around and tried to be as close to him as possible. Something about the war made him very jumpy, skittish almost, and any crumb of safety he felt, Tubbo wanted to cling onto for the rest of his life. And his dad was just that.

“I’m not going anywhere kid,” Schlatt whispered, before bringing their foreheads apart. “Come on, we have a festival to put on.”

Tubbo gave a nod, wiping the tears that he did not know were there, and followed the president out.

The duo stepped into the open air outside of the White House, looking out at the decorated area around them. It was nearing springtime and Manburg was decorated the part. Streamers hung between houses, with flower wreaths hanging from every window and door. People dressed in light dresses and suits super summer hats and caps stuffed onto their heads, carrying baskets filled with pastries and flowers. Children ran down the cobblestone streets, chasing after hoops with sticks, bearly paying attention to the two rams that passed them.

Booths were set up on the sides of the roads, people setting up their shops outside to breathe in the cold air, and advertise. They had most everything set up, just a few people putting the finishing touches onto their little areas.

The White House stood on a hill that lead right to a road lined on both sides with shops and houses that lead to the town square where the stage for speeches had been set up. It was the perfect way to walk to get a taste of everything that they had set up.

The adults perked up when they saw the longhorns of their president walk by, but none curled up and cowered. A few even waved to the two.

Tubbo liked the very, very faint smile that scratched across Schaltt's face when someone greeted him.

"Tubbo!" someone yelled.

The two turned towards the voice, met with Fundy, the fox hybrid setting down a tray of pastries down on the booth that Niki stood behind.

"Fundy! And Niki too!" Tubbo said, walking up to the booth.

It smelled amazing. Freshly made pastries, stuffed with sweet fruit and chocolate, dusted with fine sugar, only to be mixed with the smell of flowers that decorated the sides of the booth, wrapping around the poles of the structure of it.

Niki looked beautiful as always. She had a white cloth tied on top of her head, with a white, poofy shirt, with corset on. Her shirt was white as well, with a light green apron with yellow flowers embordered onto it. Even her nails were pained pastel colors, with a sparkle in her eye that Tubbo had not seen in a while.

It was nice to see again.

Fundy was in black pants, an orange shirt, a black bomber jacket, and the black cap that rested in between his ears. It was not too far off from what he normally wore, but there were flowers stuck behind his fox ears and more woven into his tail. His black fingerless gloves had been replaced with pastel pink ones, with yellow flowers also embroidered on them. He was smiling, his canine teeth poking through his lips. A boy born into war who was finally able to smile. It made Tubbo happy to see, especially since they were so close in age.

"How have you been?" Fundy asked, more emotion in his voice than he might have ever shown.

"It's been alright, we've been working hard to make sure things keep going alright, and it looks like this festival is starting out alright."

"So far, I would say," Niki said before her eyes drifted to Schlatt standing behind Tubbo. Her face hardened a bit.

Before it softened a bit, and she smiled.

"Hello, Mr. Presdient."

"Hello Niki," Schlatt walked up, joining the conversation, "looks like things are going alright so far."

"So far, yes. Would you like to try a new pastry of mine?"

Schlatt looked taken aback, just for a moment.

"I would love to."

Niki pulled out some pipping hot puff pastries, giving one to Tubbo, and one to Schlatt.

They wasted no time digging into the sweets, the warmth breathing fresh life into them, as Tubbo let the sweet cherries rest on his tongue. There was a faint hint of roses that was almost buried under all of the cherries but gave a pleasant aftertaste. Niki's pastries always tasted better than anyone else.

"It tastes great!"

Schlatt hummed in agreement, the cherry juice overflowing his mouth, and a little bit of it leaking out of the side of his mouth before he caught it with his tongue. He was devouring the thing.

"I'm glad you like them. I tried to add flowers into all of my recipes for the festival Lavender cupcakes, dandelion bear claws, and raspberry rose cookies, for just a few. Fundy had been helping to gather the flower in between his paperwork at the White House."

"Niki," Schlatt started, grazing his eyes across the displays, "give us two dandelion bear claws, if you would."

Niki beamed, giving a quick "of course," before starting to wrap up the pastries, handing them over wrapped in thin wax paper. Schlatt placed some gold nuggets in her hand, turning away before the girl could get another word in.

"Come on Tubbo, speeches are starting soon."

"Bye Niki!" Tubbo shouted, running after his father, waving behind him. He fell into step with the president, biting off the edge of his bear claw. It tasted amazing, slightly tart, but just enough to make it enjoyable while watching Schlatt munch on his, paper and all.

He really was an old goat.

The streets started to get more busy the further to the center of town they got, people participating in the few games they set up, and some of them adding modifications of their own. People laughed, giving flowers to each other, and filled their baskets with candied fruit, flowers, painted eggs, and ribbons.

Tubbo could not help but feel a sense of pride with everyone who was laughing and having a good time, the faint sound of music drifting across the air. He had helped set this up, with his father, and Fundy, and Quackity. Working as a team to set up something they thought their citizens would love. And it worked. It had worked.

He started to scan the crowd, eyes landing on a single tall, pink-haired man, who stood off to the side, holding a basket awkwardly. Tubbo could have laughed at how uncomfortable Techno looked.

"I'll be at the stage in a moment," Tubbo said, before splitting off from his dad. They had a few minutes to spare, and it would not hurt to make the socially awkward piglin hybrid feel a little more welcome with a familiar face.

“Hello Technoblade,” Tubbo said, walking right up to the hybrid. He flinched a bit as soon as he spoke. That was….odd.

“Tubbo.”

“Enjoying the festival so far?”

He grunted a response, rolling his eyes a bit, holding up his basket a bit. There were a few ribbons and eggs in it, but nothing past that. Tubbo made a mental note to fill the basket as much as they could so he could bring some back to Wilbur and Tommy.

"I got this as soon as I got here," the older hybrid said, "I think I'm supposed to put things in it."

"Oh come on, you must be having a good time."

"....Sure."

There was a slight turn in his mouth, bearly there because of his tusks, but Tubbo could see it.

“We have a fighting pit if you want,” Tubbo suggested. It was not a secret that the piglin liked to fight. Hell, he was known for it. He did not have a fighting or stage name, but everyone knew who he was, and his own name worked well enough. People came all around to see him fight, making name for himself all across servers. The pit had been set up with the hybrid in mind.

And now, looking at the pink-haired man, Tubbo wanted as his face dropped, scrunching up his nose a bit with discomfort, and squeezing his fists shut from where they were resting on his crossed arms. That was not the reaction that he had been expecting.

"I think I'll stick to the basket.”

"Well once the speeches are done, come find me, and I'll help you fill it with things to bring back to Pogtopia. Would good big man?"

Techno gave a tentative nod, the smile stretching a little more. The hybrid deserved a break. It had been non-stop work since he joined the server, and Tubbo decided that it was going to be his mission to make this the best time ever.

"I'll see you after," Tubbo said, starting to walk away, "don't leave early."

"Yeah ok. Whatever nerd."

Tubbo laughed, starting to make his way to the stage that had been set up at the center of the square. It was large, decorated with the same kind of flower wreaths and chains with the banner of Manburg hanging proudly at the front of the stage, much like their leader that stood on the stage. A symbol of everything that they were able to achieve, the ways that they had grown since the wars. How strong they were now. People had houses. Actual house, not cobbled together shacks that were barely holding themselves up. They had food, and not leftover rations that were dry and stale. Blankets and jackets to keep them warm, rather than rags that were barely covering any skin, the wind basically blowing through them.

They had thrived. Prospered under the leadership of Schlatt, as much as Tubbo did not want to admit their suffering under Wilbur. Even with the founders of L’Manburg exiled, things seemed like they were getting better. Tubbo had even overheard a conversation that Schlatt was having with Quackity to let them back into the nation.

As Tubbo climbed the steps to the stage, he held his head up high, taking his place next to his father. Things were looking up.

Things were getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let Schlatt eat random things because he is a goat 2021, this is an important issue.
> 
> I am imagining Manburg (L'Manburg) as one of that medieval-style streets, with a single courtyard/main square in the center, with a bunch of streets branching off from that, with houses/shops on either side of the stone streets. The houses get fewer and fewer as you go out, until you get to more countryside, and farms. Since Schlatt took down the walls, the farmland just turns into plans or the forest that is around Manburg.


	8. ...For a Massacre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one-day pog! They were actually supposed to be the same chapter, but they got too long, so I separated them.
> 
> Also! Respawn has been changed. I won't be using the three canon lives, and there will be a different mechanic that will be explained later (probably next chapter).

The speeches were starting soon, and Chat had not stopped talking since they had gotten to the festival. It was like having a little kid, except that little kid was hundreds of thousands of disembodied voices in Techno’s head. They wanted to look at everything, do everything, see everything, demanding that their host go in all directions at once to make sure that they did not miss anything.

And it was annoying as fuck.

They had seen Tubbo before but did not really seem to like him. As soon as the young ram came up to him they immediately started to make their displeasure painfully known.

__

_Ram boy_

_Ram_

_Why is he here?_

_Lmao!_

_Why he look like that?_

_E_

_E_

_E_

“Out of everyone you guys don’t like, why is it Tubbo?” he muttered to himself, before making his way to the space in front of the stage. There were rows and rows of chairs all around, but the special guests had seats up in front of everyone. Lo and behold, there was one for Techno, right next to Fundy.

His nephew.

The fox hybrid viability shifted as soon as his uncle sat down next to him, moving to the edge of his seat to get as far away from him as he could. This was not the first time they had met. When Fundy had first been born Wilbur spent the first few years of his life over at their father's to get over the loss of Sally, Wilbur’s late wife. Techno had never met the woman, but his brother raved about her, constantly talking about how great she had been. It had been nice to see his brother happy, he still remembered the first night he had seen Wilbur hold his son close, swaying to music, soft tears rolling down his face.

And then they were off to war. It had been years since Techno had seen the boy. He looked different. More skittish. His body had developed with age, more lean and agile, with sharp fox eyes that darted all over the place. His canines poked out of his lips, often licking the tips of them with anxiety.

Techno said nothing to his nephew but kept a side out for the anxious boy. Just because they had not seen each other for a long time did not mean that he did not want any harm to come to him. Maybe he felt a little more responsible for the boy than normal.  
Not only was his dad going insane, but Fundy had no idea the mental state of Wilbur. Gods, these voices really were making him soft.

“Hello? Is this on?” the booming voice of the ram president echoed through the crowd. There was a unanimous hush through the crowd, drawing all of their attention upfront to the man who stood above them. His horns seemed to shine in the sun, worn with pride. His suit was perfectly tailored to his body, every piece put into its place, with a blood-red tie. His vice president stood to his side, yellow duck wings tucked to his side, with Tubbo on the other side. The stage emanated power.

“Citizens of Manburg, how are we doing today? Everyone doing alright? I’ll keep this short because speeches are boring as fuck and we have other, better things to get to. I hope everyone knows where the bar is. But, today we are celebrating a free and prospering nation. A celebration of everything that we, together, have accomplished. I know there were a few who were wary when I took office, but I hope that I can win your trust by trusting all of you. We will continue to be strong. We will continue to prosper. Despite all of the horrors that have happened in this nation's past, there is no reason we can not thrive. Because we have a ‘fuck you’ attitude, and Dream can suck my dick!”

Well, that was one way to make an impression.

There was a pause. People looked around at each other. A shock ran through the crowd. It was not exactly the kind of speech that people were used to. Wilbur was always so eloquent with his words, planning out speeches for weeks before performing them.

And yet, this felt so much more real. The crowd started to loosen up, a few claps started to trickle through the people, a few stood up until there was a cacophony of applause echoing through the entire place.

Schlatt was charismatic. Is his own, odd way.

Even Techno smiled a little. Maybe he was not as bad as Wilbur said he was. His brother had been wrong about a lot of things as of recently.

Pushing back his hair, Schlatt stood off to the side, gesturing to Tubbo. The crowd sat down again, excitement still rippling through them, but the applause had died down. They seemed pleased with the presidential choice.

“And now, a few words from our Secretary of State.”

Tubbo stood up, nervously fiddling with the papers in his hands, but still gave a smile to the crowd. Schlatt put a hand on his shoulder, and the young ram loosened up a bit.

Tubbo was not shy by any means, but he had, most likely, never been in front of a crowd this big before. Techno thanked the gods that he had never been any sort of leader of anyone. He hated speeches, and he hated the crowd. His skill sets were fixed to crafting overpowers weapons, and fighting, and he was more than ok with that.

There was a buzz on Techno’s hip. His communicator vibrated with a message.

His heart dropped. Was this the moment? Were they really going to kill Schlatt right here right now? In front of all of these people? Everyone seemed so happy. For once everyone seemed to be on the same side. They were recovering. A part of him wanted to ignore the message, act like he never saw it.

A part of him knew that that was not an option.

Reluctantly, Techno reached into his cloak and pulled out the device.

One message.

From Wilbur.

_“Blood for the Blood God”_

Time froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing to that one little phrase. He had never heard it before, and yet it wormed its way into his brain, blocking out any and all noise around him.

Like a parasite to latched onto his brain, and....hurt? Why did it hurt? The gentle hum of the voices started to pick up.

More.

And more.

Until there was an eruption in sound, rattling his brain in complete agony.

He felt in shock for a moment, forced out of his body for a moment, before he was able to pick out what they were saying.

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

Techno felt himself fall out of the chair, knees hitting hard onto the stone, gripping his hair all of his straight while his brain started to pull itself apart. He was going to be pulled apart, his mind was going to explode.

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

His skin was alive with over-sensitive sensations, every piece of clothing hurt to touch his skin. He wanted to rip out his hair. He wanted to claw his way into his brain and pick out the parasites that lived there.

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

His throat hurt like he had been screaming. His body shook with overstimulation. Did he even have a body?

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

_Blood for the Blood God_

The thought was so small. While the darkness started to close in on his vision. The floor gave out under him, and Technoblade fell into the cold darkness of his mind.

***

Tubbo walked up the microphone, crumpling the pages that his speech was written on. Not the best idea in the world, but he needed to do something with his hands. He had practiced this speech before, countless times, for this moment. Standing in the space in front of Schlatt’s desk, saying the words over and over and over again, taking the advice that the older ram gave, and trying again. This was important. And he was not going to screw it up.

Something weighed on his shoulder, looking back, Tubbo looked into the square eyes of his father, smiling.

This was fine.

He got this.

“Hello everyone! Um, well this is a day to celebrate. We have all worked very hard to make this nation prosperous. But none of that would have been possible without you all, so I would like to say, from the bottom of my heart….”

The crowd was silent and still, waiting. Waiting for whatever he was going to say next. They all looked hopeful. For the first time, their citizens did not look like a bunch of dejected ruffians who were flirting with the borderline of starvation. They looked healthy. This was the start of something great.

Ok that was enough of a dramatic pause.

He opened his mouth to give the big finish of his speech. When someone stood up.

There were a few cries of confusion, as Technoblade started to make his way to the stage. His head was turned, hiding his eyes from the rest of everyone. His steps were heavy, confident. No where close to the normal, almost timid grace that the hybrid had when he was around people.

“Techno?” Quackity said, watching. He was climbing up the stairs to the podium. “What are you doing?”

He stopped.

Halfway up the stairs.

His head lifted, slowly, like it was much heavier than it should be. The normal dark chocolate eyes were overshadowed by a film of red. His mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

His hand lifted, pointing the rocket launcher at Tubbo, right in the space between his eyes.

No one had the chance to react.

There was barely any time to think.

There was a single shriek that rose above the tense chaos. A moment of slow motion, before the tension was broken, and things resumed.

“Tubbo!”

Someone grabbed him, yanking him close, strong arms holding him. Tubbo could barely make out the figure of his father, while Schlatt covered him with his body, tucking him in the empty space on top of his chest. It felt like a hug. Safe. Warm

A blast impacted Schlatt’s back, pushing the two of them forward. Tubbo yelled in pain the sharp corner of the podium slamming into his back. They both fell forward, but not before Tubbo hid his face in Schlatt’s chest, feeling the impact of the floor, even with a body in between.

Screaming rang out in all directions, smoke starting to stain the air. He tried to clear the ringing from his ears. Something was wrong. Why was there screaming? There did not need to be screaming? This was a time to celebrate. Why did his head hurt?

Tubbo slowly started to push himself upon his hands, his body feeling a lot heavier than it had before. He was laying on something. Or someone.

Schlatt….

Dad!

Eyes shooting open, Tubbo looked down at the face of his father. Eyes closed. The heavy smell of burnt hair and flesh swirled around him. Blood started to pool under the ram, completely slack under his son.

Dead.

It was an agonizingly long moment, before the image in front of him processed.

And Tubbo screamed.

Sliding off of Schlatt’s chest, he gathered the man up in his arms cradling, his head close to his body. Tears streamed down his face, soaking into the hair of his father.

“Dad! Please! Wake up! You can’t leave me! You can’t!”

There was a thud of a boot off to his right. His head snapped to look at the monster in front of him. Techno stood with his crossbow slack against his side, sword in his other hand. Eyes wide and red with delusion.

He was smiling. A cruel, crazed smile on his face, as he turned to fire into the crowd out in front. Screaming became the music in the air while Techno fired more and more shots into the helpless crowd below. More experienced fighters dodged off to the side, and started to pull on armor, and take out weapons.

Blood soaked the ground, covering the beautifully decorated festival area. Ringing started to echo in Tubbo’s head, holding his father closer to him, like he would be able to keep his body safe with the young ram’s own body.

It was ruined.

Everything was ruined. People were dying.

Technoblade jumped off of the stage, running into the onslaughts of people attacking him head-on, dropping the rocket launcher, and taking out an ax.

Tubbo slowly dragged his eyes back to his father in his arms. His chest was not moving. He was not moving.

“Dad,” the whimper was desperate. Tubbo was desperate. He buried his face into Schlatt’s chest. He smelled like smoke, paper, and old whiskey. “Please wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Things are going great

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmm, there is no way that this can turn bad.


End file.
